


promiscuous

by b1rds0ng, gargalesthesiaaa



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Guilt, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Humor, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Social Media, Strangers to Lovers, Sugar Daddy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Video Game Mechanics, just homies in a cs:go lobby yknow how it is, sweaty gamer boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/b1rds0ng/pseuds/b1rds0ng, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gargalesthesiaaa/pseuds/gargalesthesiaaa
Summary: the story of what happens when struggling college student george meets user 'dreamwastaken' in a loud cs:go lobby-in other words, george and dream flirting for rougly 2.7K words
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 34
Kudos: 469





	promiscuous

**Author's Note:**

> BROOOOOOOOOOOOOO FINALLY FUCKING FINALLY WE GOT A NEW FIC OUT FOR YOU!!! IM SO SORRY FOR NOT FEEDING THE BRAINROT SOONER AS I WAS IN A SLUMP AND ALASTAIR WAS TRYING DESPERATELY TO HELP ME THROUGH IT
> 
> this is nether writing the notes, me n alastair cowrote this together so fuck yeah we r ultimate duo
> 
> we spedran this in under two days, so like fuck. i cant believe george and dream flirting is what got me to finally post another fic LMAO
> 
> btw. we both have ZERO clue how to actually play cs:go/how steam works so bear with us  
> -  
> helo !!! alastair here >:]  
> this was an absolute blast 2 write and we have a bunch of unfinished drafts, even a oneshot im working on in the dwm (swm) universe !!
> 
> all the support is lovely n i give you all kithes /p
> 
> please enjoy the brainrot:D

George takes a big inhale, pulling on his headphones before exhaling. He prepares himself to put on the sweetest, most honey-suckle voice he can manage, and deal with teenagers who had probably stolen their mom’s card to give the contents to some rando on a CS:GO lobby.

Scrolling through the public lobbies, he clicks on a random one praying that some unlucky kid will help him pay rent unknowingly. George lets the map load, and his fingers fly across his keyboard as he fucks around while the warmup timer ticks down. He prays his team is at least mildly competent and can hold their own as he skims over the words, _‘You are a Counter-Terrorist’_ when they pop up on his screen.

Before George starts speaking, he glances to the bottom left of the screen to scan the usernames. The voices of pre-pubescent boys filter through his headphones, and he scrunches his face up.

He looks at the side bar and sees the only person who hadn’t been screaming into their shitty mic. _dreamwastaken_ , George reads, and clicks on their steam profile to send them a direct message. He hopes this is just a guy who’s too mature to try and pick a fight with the teenagers in the chat and not an eleven-year-old who doesn’t have a mic.

Who knows, maybe it’s a woman? George may be gay, but since he doesn’t plan to have any actual relations with these people, he keeps his options open.

The steam message history opens on a new tab, and he sends a dm.

georgenotfound: hey ! would you want to move to discord?? i dont feel like listening to these boys screaming tonight :///

George waits patiently when he spots the three dots in a bubble and sits back in his chair.

dreamwastaken: sure, theyre giving me a headache anyways :p whats ur discord? 

George pumps his fist in victory, whispering a hushed “yes!” before going back to responding to Dream.

georgenotfound: just before i give you it, are you over seventeen? im kinda uncomfy with people under 

It wasn’t quite a lie. He just didn’t want to hear a squeaky preteen voice this late at night.

dreamwastaken is typing…

dreamwastaken: im over 17 dw :)))) 

georgenotfound: okkok :]

He sends his discord code and username, and he gets a ping signaling that ‘ _dreamwastaken sent you a friend request_.’

Thrumming with giddy energy at the prospect of making money, he accepts the request and shoots a DM almost immediately thereafter.

georgenotfound: hey :] 

dreamwastaken: hi :p

dreamwastaken is typing… 

George drums the desk with his forefinger and middle finger while waiting for Dream to type.

dreamwastaken: i hope we’re calling with no camera lol

George stares at the message, head turning in confusion and apprehension. He doesn’t want to talk to a 40 year old dad, even if they give good money. He isn't in the mood for angry wives yelling down the mic today.

georgenotfound: yeah ofc :]

_Idiot._

dreamwastaken: alr rad 

_Rad? What did he get himself into?_

The annoying, incessant tune of the discord ringtone practically eviscerates his eardrums in record time. Groaning, he turns the volume _way_ the fuck down before picking up.

“Hey,” He says, sultry tone definitely catching the surprise of ‘dreamwastaken’, if the audible gulp is anything to go by.

“ _Holy fuck_ ,” George hears the American whisper, which makes him roll his eyes. “Didn’t know you were british.”

“Why? Does that… _affect_ you at all?” George can’t help the slight smirk that pulls at his lips, tongue darting out to wet them slowly.

“Uh— no, not necessarily,” ‘Dreamwastaken’ clears his throat, and George startles at how _low_ the others' voices sounds. He’s definitely a man, and by the sound of it, not forty. George silently cheers in his head. 

“Well. What do you think I can call you, then?” George asks, watching the timer on the screen and messing around with the guns he purchased in his inventory. “‘Dream was taken’ is kind of long.”

The man hums, the clacking of his keyboard telling George that he probably has a good setup. _Expensive_ , probably. “It’s Dream.”

George raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a real name?"

‘Dream’ exhales a laugh. “Why, do you want something to scream tonight?”

“ _What—_ what the fuck is wrong with you? You’re so annoying,” George splutters, breaking his character. Dream laughs loudly, smugness seeping through his voice. George can practically envision the cocky grin. 

“I fucking knew that was a bit,” Dream brags, and George scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“I can’t _believe_ you,” He states. “I’m leaving this call.”

“No, no no!” Dream gets out between his laughs. “Come on, George, don’t be like that.”

George mouse hovers over the red ‘leave call’ button. Something pulls him back, and he moves his cursor away. “What the hell am I supposed to do now? You ruined my entire setup, Dream.”

“Just talk like how you would when you’re not trying to sell yourself for a quick buck,” Dream suggests impractically, running his character over to George’s and crouching multiple times. “My real name’s Clay, by the way. Just call me Dream though.”

George scowls and pulls his knees up on his chair. _The audacity._

He watches the timer tick down, and readies himself for tiring rounds of getting used to talking normally in a voice chat where he would usually doll himself up for others pleasure. 

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

George takes a breath, and the round begins.

This map is far from George’s favourite, but at least it’s not one he’s ‘dogwater’ at. Switching to the SMG he purchased, he hedges the corner to see if he can spot anyone on the opposing team. George sees none and turns left, making his way to a more open area that he might be able to snipe some 12 year olds from. Potentially making them cry, who knows.

“So, I’m assuming you play often?” Dream speaks up with a horrible attempt at small talk.

George moves the mic away from his face and groans quietly, annoyance and regret quickly becoming normal for the night.

“Yes.” He answers shortly, trying to focus more on gameplay than ‘stranger on the internet who _may or may not_ be giving him money later tonight’.

“Y’know,” Dream starts, “You’re kinda rude when you’re not trying to trick people.”

If George had a rage meter, it’d be bursting at the top and spilling viscous red liquid. It’s been about 10 minutes and he’s about ready to start pulling his hair from the roots. He didn’t think _rage-quit_ was on the menu tonight, but it seems to be the main course he’s heading for.

Making the executive decision to tune Dream out before he gets killed, he hones all the focus he can muster back into the screen in front of him. Reaching the area, he camps behind a car that has good enough vision of the layout in front of him. He supposes it could be better, but it’ll make do. _Lots of compromises tonight_.

"Oh, _fuck—_ watch out, behind!" Dream yells into his mic, somehow only getting heard by George’s left ear.

Taking the risk, George swivels his player around and sees someone trying to creep up on him. They duck behind one of the archways, obscuring any clear shot that he could've had.

"Thanks, Dream." George sighs and runs a hand down his face, voice remaining monotone.

"Hey, I just saved your ass," Dream cackles, genuinely amused at the situation, "Be _nicer_ to me."

It's all said in jest, but George has had too much stupidity for this round. He knows he's throwing, getting stuck in his head isn't the way to win. He takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his simmering anger.

They end up losing that match, and George has to refrain from slamming his hands onto his desk when he hears Dream laughing.

“Oh, you are such a sore loser,” Dream notes when a new round starts up. George watches in irritation as Dream idles in front of him, the ugly 3-D face making George’s nose scrunch up distastefully. 

Suddenly, Dream’s avatar is lying on the ground and their teammate is pointing a deagel to where he last stood. George snorts at Dream’s loud ‘ _what the fuck?!_ ’ as he respawns, running over to where he died and trying to find the person that shot him.

“Oh my _God_ , you’re such a cock sucker! What the fuck was that, that’s so unfair?!” Dream yells, and if that wasn’t so funny, George would’ve been annoyed at the loud feedback he gets. Instead, George just bursts out laughing at Dream’s indignant hollering.

“Is friendly fire fucking on?! Oh my God, it is! What the hell?” George hears Dream’s complaints under his loud laughter, and he doesn’t realize the round starts until someone on the opposite team moves over to his field of vision and kills him.

“ _No_!” He screams, even though a big grin spreads across his face when Dream starts laughing along with him.

George starts playing again after his laughter subsides, and, surprisingly, starts easily bantering with Dream through the matches. Minutes, maybe hours, pass by, and George hasn’t thought about making an excuse to leave yet. George, begrudgingly, admits he’s _sort of_ having fun. (He’d never actually say that out loud, though.)

Another round begins, the timer starts ticking down, and George starts to wonder how he’d pay rent this month before Dream speaks up.

“How much would I have to pay you to get your number?” Dream asks, and George blinks before walking his character in front of Dream’s.

“You can’t afford me.” He deadpans, pulling up his gun and shooting Dream. He can hear a loud scoff coming from the other end, and laughs.

“Try me.” Dream says, and it feels like a challenge. George wants to try him, he wants to see how riled up Dream can get.

“Okay, five hundred dollars.” George rolls his eyes, knowing the amount was improbable. While moving around the map nonchalantly, he can hear Dream ask what his PayPal is. He rattles it off automatically, already having memorized it for nights like these.

A ping from his phone interrupts George scanning his inventory, and he picks it up. What he sees almost makes him drop it from surprise. 

_Dream:) has sent $500 via PayPal._

What. The. _Fuck._

“Can I get your number now?”

_Double_ what the fuck.

George stares, dumbfounded, at the sudden influx of money in his college-debt-ridden bank account. _Holy fuck_.

“What the fuck. Um.” George says smartly.

“You gotta give me an answer here, Georgie,” Dream teases. George wants to claw that stupid grin that he can imagine Dream has on right now off his smug face.

“Jesus Christ, no, you can’t get my number, what?” George stammers, trying to regain his composure even just a little bit.

“Well, how much more would I need to pay?”

There's a delay in George’s answer as he considers his options.

“You’re insane.” is what he eventually settles on.

“Oh, come on! That’s so mean,” Dream whines.

“There’s no way you’d pay me another five hundred dollars, what kind of psychopath would do that?”

“I just want your number, George.”

Georg inhales.

Well, if he really wants to push his luck.

“Fuck, fine. Uh. Three thousand dollars.” George’s only partially kidding.

"Oh," Dream pauses, voice dropping dangerously low, "So you're promiscuous?" His tone becomes teasing, almost testing; as if poking a bear with a stick. "I could deal with that."

There's a pause where George stares slack-jawed at the open CS:GO lobby, eyes widened like dinner plates at the sudden, flirtatious words. He doesn’t like how easily they made warmth spread across his entire body.

“If you promise to be good, that is.”

Before he can answer, he gets another ping from his phone.

_Dream:) has sent $3,000 via PayPal._

“Holy fuck!” George exclaims, and Dream wheezes. “Fuck, fuck, fine, oh my God, take it, you’re so fucking weird, holy shit- you just payed off my entire rent for three months, you know that? You’re fucking insane.”

George clambers over his knees to hastily send Dream his phone number through Discord, and finally (somewhat) relaxes when the message is read.

“Thank you,” Dream says happily, like he just won the lottery. 

The jingle of someone leaving the discord call sounds.

George promptly shuts down. 

Confused on how to proceed, he decides to push his luck and lure in at least one more victim into his ruse. No harm, no foul, just some extra cash to spend around. Maybe he could buy a new set-up if he manages to keep Dream around for long enough.

(George hates the guilty feeling that rises up in his chest, reminding himself that this was all just to pay the bills. 

He would never be the one who falls instead.

No matter how charming the other is.)

George shakes his head violently, damning those thoughts to the back of his mind. They’re for future George to worry about, right now he just has to focus on the two games he’ll be playing tonight.

Repeating his process from the beginning of the night, he joins lobby number two. He really isn’t in any mood to continue with the act, but it’s not like he’s ever given himself much of a choice. There are a million more conventional jobs that he could work, plenty more stable with opportunities for befriending co-workers— laughing at inside jokes from a day in the office. But this is the garden George sowed, so he must reap it. 

Before he could existentialize any further, another ping on his phone forces him to snap his head down.

  
  


**New Message From: Unknown Number**

_hi is this george_

George opens the chat message faster than he’d like to admit, making a contact for the number. 

_Dream._

Another message comes in before he can start typing a reply.

**dream:** hi is this george 

**dream:** BTW I NEVER ASKED YOUR AGE CAN I CONFIRM UR OVER 20 SO I DONT CATCH A CASE…

George scoffs lightheartedly.

**georgie <3:** no, fuck you.

**georgie <3:** but yeah it is, why r u so rich?

**georgie <3:** and yes i am over 20.

_[insert a blurry photo of george’s driver’s license showing his birth year]_

**dream** : okay first of all fuck you too

**dream** : second, phewwwwwww holy fuck i was about to have a heart attack

**dream** : thank g o d 

**georgie <3: **u never answered my question????? why r u so rich??

**dream** : ,,,, well

**dream** : i sort of

**dream:** make

**dream:** minecraft videos for a living

**georgie <3: **can i-

**georgie <3: **can i laugh?

**dream:** no

**georgie <3: **damn that sucks, ur too late.

**dream:** im taking back my money

**dream:** im joking i wont i promise

**georgie <3: **ur kinda weird.

**dream:** n ur british

**georgie <3: **damn, your dad didn’t love u, huh?

**dream:** hey im not the one who asked for a real name to scream when i fuck you lmao

**georgie <3: ** and _i’m_ not the one who brought up sex, that was all you.

**dream:** chivalry is dead i cant believe this

**georgie <3: **shit, never knew it was alive

**dream:** bruhhhhhhh u suck ass bro

**georgie <3: **based on every interaction we’ve had thus far, i can come to the conclusion that you suck ass

**georgie <3: **not me

**georgie <3: **<3

**dream:** yo honestly

**dream:** id suck ur ass if u rlly want me to

**georgie <3: **i will block you and keep your money.

**dream:** nooooo pls george dont block me ur so sexy

**dream:** ,,,,,

**dream:** ive decided that i wont letchivalry Die

**dream:** so,,,,,

**georgie <3: **so what

**dream** : let me take you out on a date?

George sucks in a sharp breath. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowing at the proposition. 

He weighs his options, realizing that the situation is able to go horrible in a multitude of ways. Not letting any nerves get the best of him, he quickly types out a message before throwing his phone across the room and screaming into his pillow like a pre-teen who just confessed to their crush.

**georgie <3: **sure. send me the details.

**Author's Note:**

> boys i am in the mood for some kudos /j
> 
> but rlly if u enjoyed pls pls check out some of our other works, i guarantee that if u liked this one u'll probably like the others! nether is gargalesthesiaaa, and alastair is b1rds0ng
> 
> kinda an open/ambiguous ending but i didnt think it was that huge so i didnt put it in the tags (also! me n alastair are debating on releasing ANOTHER fic to go along with this au so mayhaps we'll do that, we'll keep u posted on our socials)
> 
> tysm for reading guys! find me (nether) on my socials here:  
> [nether's twitter](https://twitter.com/m3llohiii)  
> [nether's tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nqther)  
> [nether's instagram](https://www.instagram.com/netherwastaken/)
> 
> and find alastair on his twitter here!  
> [alastair's twitter](https://twitter.com/floridavl0g)  
> 


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